


Live for today

by soygirl



Category: The Avengers (2012)
Genre: Cancer, F/M, Friendship, Hurt/Comfort, Illnesses, M/M, Science Boyfriends, Slow Build, Team Feels, Tony Feels
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2013-05-21
Updated: 2013-07-30
Packaged: 2017-12-12 12:39:49
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 3
Words: 5,559
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/811690
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/soygirl/pseuds/soygirl
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Three months after the Chitauri Invasion, Avengers are living together in the tower as a team and as friends, and Tony is starting to feel bad. The diagnosis is cancer he developed after nuking the alien ship in space. Now he has to fight the most important battle of his life.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. 1

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I decided to fill [this very old prompt:](http://avengerkink.livejournal.com/5102.html?thread=4260590#t4260590)  
>  _With his suit shut down, Tony was just close enough to where the nuke went off to be affected by the radiation. What does the tear do when they find out Tony has cancer? Or Pepper and Rhodey? What does Tony himself do when he finds out he only has one more year left to live, tops?_  
>  I would be happy with just their reactions to this, or even a death!fic, but I would really like a fill that details Tony’s struggle with the disease, whether or not he beats it.

 

It all starts slowly, so slowly that it takes Tony good few weeks to actually realize that something is wrong.

He’s tired all the time. That isn’t so strange because he doesn’t sleep that much normally, and with the clean-up of New York that Avengers are helping with there’s even less time for rest. Especially that Tony has his Stark Industries job and some S.H.I.E.L.D. advising to do, all at the same time, contrary to his friends who only do avenging and team bonding after hours.

That one is easy to ignore, though, and nothing unexpected, so Tony brushes it off. Okay, so he tries to sleep a tiny bit more and drink one of those vitamin shot things to boost up his energy – in addition to his normal diet of coffee and Gatorade – and it helps slightly.

Between his workshop, Stark Industries offices, Helicarrier and city’s streets, Tony has no time to stop for unnecessary thing, he’s always in hurry, always talking, always moving, always joking, being himself.

‘Eat this,’ Steve tells him and throws a foil-wrapped sandwich at him. The team is taking a short break before working on removing debris from yet another street; at least now they can see the end of the work.

Tony does eat and just as he bites in the sandwich, he realizes that he hasn’t eaten anything the whole day – it’s five p.m. now – and he hasn’t felt hungry at all. That is new. He’s used to not eating proper regular meals, but he drinks smoothies instead and grabs some bite now and then, when his body needs fuel. Not being hungry at all, despite all the physical work he’s doing, is suspicious.

But – they have been digging some bodies from underneath the rubble recently. Not many, but it happens, and Tony fights the urge to turn around and go away every time it happens, since he isn’t fine with that bit of gore. So it would be entirely logical if his body didn’t want anything in his stomach that he could potentially thhrow up.

***

One day he gets this killer headache, it seems to build up for a few hours and then it’s suddenly strong and unbearable, pounding in Tony’s temples. He scrambles across the kitchen where he’s been working on some blueprints for R&D to get to the cupboard with medicine and takes maximum allowed dose of the painkiller, drinks a glass of water and lays down in the penthouse, on his favorite sofa. He falls asleep much more easily than usually, but blames it on the exhaustion.

JARVIS wakes him up sometime later, saying that Clint is coming up in the elevator and will be in the penthouse in approximately twenty seconds. Tony groans, sits up quickly and rubs the sleep off his eyes. Before the archer comes out of the elevator, Tony’s hair is almost looking all right and he’s pretending to work on something on his tablet while in fact he’s just trying to focus his eyes since his vision is swimming a bit from the abrupt change of position.

Sure, they are friends, but Tony wouldn’t like Clint asking him endless questions if he saw Tony sleeping during the day – a very unusual thing – and Clint would probably tell Bruce who he acts like an actual medical doctor for the team.

Tony figures he just needs rest, maybe he’s been pushing himself a little too far, even if he’s only been trying to do as much as the others – but he is only human.

‘Hey, man,’ Clint greets him cheerfully. He’s wearing training clothes, there are droplets of sweat on his temples, so Tony assumes he’s been training down in the gym. ‘Nice to see you out of your lair for once,’ he adds, nodding approvingly to himself.

‘Thanks for reminding me, Legolas, I’ve got numbers running down there,’ Tony decides to use the opportunity to run away before Clint can comment on something. Clint is a very sharp brain and a lovable asshole, but Tony doesn’t feel in mood for word games now. ‘JARVIS got us some new sports drink, the pink one tastes like cotton candy, don’t ask me why and how but it does, it’s like a mental trip to Coney Island, so knock yourself out. And don’t tell Thor, he’ll drink it all in one go,’ Tony says the words quickly, standing up and managing not to stumble, and a moment later disappears inside the elevator. Clint is in the kitchen already.

‘Ugh, JARVIS, do I have anything standing for today?’

‘Just one meeting with Mister Rosenthal from PR, he’d like to talk about an interview –’

‘Cancel. I _hate_ the set-up interviews.’

‘There is also a dinner with the team –’

‘Tell them –’ Tony starts, but JARVIS doesn’t let him finish.

‘You have a very important violate experiment going on and you cannot leave the supervision to the bots only, sir,’ the A.I. says and Tony swears JARVIS would be smirking if he could. ‘May I suggest a warm shower, something light to eat, and a healthy dose of sleep, sir?’

‘You’re an angel,’ Tony praises the A.I. and does exactly as instructed.

Sleeping isn’t as easy as Tony would expect it to be; he wakes up numerous times, sweaty and breathing heavily. Nightmares again, ugh, he _hates_ them, but he’s come to terms with the fact that they happen. He knows that Steve and Clint deal with them, too – he doesn’t spy on them, no, he just overheard them once. He woke up in the middle of the night and knew there was no more sleeping for him, and as he was walking down the stairs to the workshop, he managed to catch a few words out of their talk.

Tony does force himself to stay in bed, though, instead of getting up and starting his work anew. He can still feel the headache lingering at the back of his head.

He finally manages to get full five uninterrupted hours of sleep in the morning and when he wakes up it ten thirty and it’s the latest he’s woken up since… since he was a kid, probably. He feels pretty refreshed and relaxed though, so apparently it was worth it.

***

In the kitchen Tony meets Steve who is sitting calmly by the table and reading a newspaper – seriously, an actual newspaper? – who raises his head and smiles brightly at Tony when he enters the room.

‘Hey, Tony. How did the experiment go?’

‘Ugh,’ Tony grunts, thinking for a second _what goddamn experiment_ , but then he remembers the excuse JARVIS gave to the team. ‘Not too good. Will need to re-do it with some parameters changed.’

‘I’m sorry,’ Steve offers and it’s as genuine as if he was talking to someone whose friend has just died. He really is a precious thing, Tony is assured once more. ‘What was it about again?’

‘Erm, some Stark Industries stuff, technical, you wouldn’t be interested, it’s mostly numbers and violate substances, you know, a geek’s wet dream –’

‘Tony!’

Steve is so cute when he blushes, Tony decides, and his outdated ideals are even more incredible, even if he’s been surprisingly okay with all the technology. JARVIS told Tony that he has even started doodling on his tablet, even if he sticks to pencils and paint most of the time.

‘Okay, sorry, I won’t,’ Tony assures him, walking up to the coffee machine and pressing the triple espresso button. Most coffee machines don’t have that one, but it’s only natural that Tony adjusted his to suit his needs.

‘You’ve got so eat something,’ Steve says, observing Tony from behind the newspaper.

‘Not that again,’ Tony groans and moves swiftly to sit on the counter. Steve has this scolding frown between his perfectly neat eyebrows, but doesn’t say anything. ‘Not hungry.’

‘Did you eat something down in the workshop?’

‘Sure I did –’

‘Of course,’ Steve mocks, making Tony blink, who knew Captain knew how to do sarcasm? ‘If I make you some scrambled eggs, will you eat?’

‘Will you leave me alone if I do?’

‘I guess…’

‘Okay then,’ Tony gives in, knowing that Cap is too honorable not to keep his word, and drowns the espresso in two gulps, the blissful bitter liquid sliding down his throat pleasantly.

 He does eat the scrambled eggs, they are pretty tasty but Tony still just doesn’t feel like eating.

After one more coffee, this time a little less strong and with some more sugar, Tony goes down to the workshop to catch up on the things he was supposed to finish yesterday. There are two meetings he has to attend in the afternoon – well, attend or deal with angry Pepper – and then one more at S.H.I.E.L.D., and despite all the rest and the caffeine, Tony can feel the headache building up again. It's going to be a long day.

 

 

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I hope the beginning was interesting enough to make you stay here and wait for the rest of the story. If you have any questions/suggestions/comments, let me know!


	2. 2

A few days later the tiredness seems settled in Tony’s bones for good and, as if it wasn’t enough, he catches a nasty cold. It’s fundamentally wrong because Tony Stark never comes down with something as prosaic as a cold, especially in the middle of summer, come on, it’s ridiculous – but it still happens.

His head is pounding, throat sore and sinuses feel like exploding.

‘I’ve got cold,’ Tony tells Pepper over the phone when she calls to scold him for not coming in for his consulting hours. ‘I’m gonna die,’ he adds and he can _see_ Pepper rolling her eyes.

‘You actually do sound congested,’ she declares, sounding somehow surprised. ‘Okay, I won’t be mad at you today, but I’m going to have JARVIS update me on you and if he tells me you’re out of bed or _drinking_ I’ll make you attend every single board meeting for the next six months. I. _Will_.’

‘Okay, okay, I get it,’ Tony mumbles. He is actually feeling miserable enough to stay in bed which is saying something. ‘See you tomorrow,’ he adds and hangs up.

There are, surprisingly – thanks heaven for Pepper’s foresight – various medicines in a cabinet in the bathroom, so Tony swallows some vitamins and painkillers and finds an endless supply of tissues. The tablet is always nearby so Tony takes it out from the desk and crawls back under the warm blankets on his gigantic bed.  

‘Captain Rogers is asking if you will be joining the team for lunch,’ JARVIS announces a few minutes after midday. Tony feels remotely nauseous at the thought of eating, so he just shakes his head for a no. There are juices and some fruit in his personal mini-fridge in the room and he’ll be perfectly fine.

‘No, J, tell them the usual, or – I might be re-running that experiment from the other day. Yeah. One extended lie is easier to remember than several different ones.’

‘Wouldn’t it be easier to just tell the team that you are in fact ill, sir?’ JARVIS asks with his perfect innocent voice; Tony laughs and it makes his throat throb.

‘Are you sure you are JARVIS and not some A.I. programmed by Pepper?’ he questions and shakes his head. ‘It’s not really their business. Whatever. I don’t need to explain myself to anyone in my own house.’

‘Of course not, sir,’ JARVIS replies obediently and goes silent.

Tony looks back at the tablet and frowns a bit, browsing through the latest R&D projects he is supposed to look at and approve –

– and the next thing he remembers is waking up to a half-dark room, completely silent, an orange glow visible over the city.

‘J, time?’ he asks groggily, trying to find a packet of tissues to blow his nose. Ugh. Disgusting.

‘Half past eight, sir,’ JARVIS replies promptly. Half past _what_?

‘Did I just sleep like seven hours in the middle of the day?’ Tony disbelievingly asks himself, or maybe JARVIS, because things like that _don’t_ happen.

‘Seven hours and twenty one minutes, sir. I believe it’s your organism’s natural need while it’s fighting an apparent infection –’

‘Thanks for the obvious, J,’ Tony mumbles, sitting up slowly and trying not to make his head spin. ‘And before you try to advise me seeing a doctor let me tell you no, a cold is not a big deal, even I know that. I already feel better,’ he adds, even if that’s not completely true. But he doesn’t feel worse, so it’s something.

He doesn’t feel like eating anything so he just stays in bed, working on some designs until he falls asleep again with JARVIS playing his favorite loud playlist in the background.

 

 

Pepper’s voice wakes Tony up.

‘Good boy,’ she laughs, staring at the suits in Tony’s wardrobe, obviously trying to decide which one will be the best. ‘I’m glad you actually did listen to be for once.’

Tony just grumbles something incomprehensible and drags himself to the bathroom. When he’s cleaned up and ready to face the world – metaphorically, because he can’t remember the last time when he _felt_ like going out of his safe space – and walks back to the bedroom, there is a dark green suit waiting for him on the bed, with cream shirt and a pair of lovely matching cream leather shoes. This means a public meeting or an interview and Tony honestly can’t remember which is it this time.

He puts the suit on and notices – for the first time _notices_ and not hears it said by someone else – that the clothes are too loose. It’s not a big difference and no one will be able to notice, but Tony does; it’s obvious that the shirt is not as slim-fitted as it used to be and he needs to find another belt because the current one is too loose. Huh.

But then he does realize that he hasn’t been eating enough recently, he just never expected it to be so… visible. Right word. Not like he’s going to tell anyone that they were right.

When Tony walks into the kitchen he sees Pepper, eating her breakfast salad, and Bruce, cooking something on the stove. It probably should have some nice aroma, but Tony can’t really feel any smells now through his congested nose.

‘Have some soup,’ Bruce says with a small grin before Tony can even greet him, not like he would, he usually goes straight to the coffee machine before attempting to speak to anyone, but this time he feels rested. Not sleepy. Not exhausted. _Imagine_.

‘You traitor,’ he looks at Pepper accusingly, because Bruce feeding him hot soup for _breakfast_ of all things means she told him. Pepper looks at Tony, completely unmoved, and frowns slightly.

‘I’ll have to put some make up on that red nose of yours, Mister Stark, for the meeting we have about the arc reactor-powered tower in Chicago,’ she states before going back to staring at her phone. A-ha. So it’s not an interview. That makes the day a tiny bit better.

‘I put ginger and lemon in it,’ Bruce tells Tony, gesturing at the bowl. ‘It should help a bit.’

‘Thanks, Brucie,’ Tony says earnestly and sits down to eat the soup since he knows no amount of _I’m not hungry_ and _I don’t wanna_ and _I prefer pancakes_ will help him if those two have teamed up. It’s completely unfair. Bruce can be surprisingly fierce and stubborn for such a mellow-looking person, and Pepper… Tony’s had enough time to learn about Pepper. Pepper is something else.

Tony feels like he spends half of the day blowing his nose and swallowing pills, but that’s okay because in the evening he feels a little better, and the next morning the headache and the pressure in his sinuses is almost gone.

 

 

The infection is back the same month and Tony is starting to get slightly annoyed. Pepper frowns at him and forbids him to leave the bed for at least three days.

‘You know I will die of boredom before the second day is done,’ Tony whines, but Pepper is acting too much like a mother – not Tony’s mother, but a real one – to be persuaded to give in to him.

‘You have five other people living in the tower, anyone can come over to entertain you, or you can work – _from your bed,_ not physically – or watch movies. Or whatever. As long as you let yourself really recuperate this time, without pushing yourself.’

‘But I’ve got a project for S.H.I.E.L.D. I should –’ Tony tries, but she just glares.

‘I’ll tell Phil you are indisposed for a few days, they’re getting enough of your toys anyway.’

‘Yeah, that’s what I need, Agent laughing at Iron Man in bed because of a _cold_ –’

‘Yeah, imagine his surprise at the thought that you are actually _human_ underneath the asshole act you insist on all the time,’ she says and disappears before Tony can reply.

‘Okay, I get it, I’ll stick to talking to myself now,’ Tony murmurs but does stay in bed. There is a possibility that his door are locked and he wouldn’t be able to open them, but he doesn’t exactly feel like checking.

Steve, being his perfect self, comes by a few hours later. Tony is sure he has the best intentions, but he only ends up being a painful reminder of the fact that he _cannot_ be sick. That makes Tony slightly more miserable and it adds up so he can’t help himself from being snappish and annoying. Not that it’s something new.

It takes Steve longer to leave than Tony would expect.

‘I’m supposed to spar with Thor in a few minutes,’ Steve says tightly and Tony wants to smack himself for shell-shocking the poor man with his vocabulary, but come on, Tony Stark is above apologies. They usually get along all right, but Tony is too annoyed with the whole cold deal to keep himself at bay. ‘Is that okay?...’

‘If you leave me alone?  Yeah, go on. I’ve got some work to do anyway,’ Tony replies, blowing his nose loudly. ‘I’ll have J play some music that your poor sensitive ears wouldn’t bear and stuff.’

‘Okay,’ Steve says, standing up and smoothing his trousers and taking a step towards the door.

‘… don’t take it personally, Capsicle,’ Tony blurts out before Steve walks out, making him turn around and look at Tony with yet another frown. ‘I’m just bored out of my mind. And,’ Tony stops to sneeze, ‘you see. _Ugh_.’

‘I get it,’ Steve says, nodding. ‘I used to get sick a lot,’ he adds and disappears. Tony has no doubts that Steve was an angel even on his worst days, polite and saying sorry for being a problem to anyone around; that’s just the way Cap is.

 

 

‘I heard you made Steve run away,’ Tony hears not much later and his head spans up, giving him a wave of strong headache because of the sudden movement. Bruce raises one eyebrow and closes the door behind himself with his leg. His hands are busy holding a tray with food.

‘Did he tell you that?’

‘I assumed as much,’ Bruce offers, sitting down next to Tony on the bed and placing the tray in his lap. ‘Put the tablet away. _Now_.’

Tony obeys and lets the man push a warm bowl into his now empty hands.

‘Chicken noodle?’ Tony asks, glancing at the contents, more appetizing than most things recently. Bruce nods. ‘You didn’t have to –’

‘I wanted,’ Bruce interrupts, moving a bit to sit cross-legged on the top of the blankets. ‘You insist after missions that I’m a proper substitution for S.H.I.E.L.D. medical, so I might as well play my part. Since no one else is going to take care of you. And, barring Pepper and Rhodey, you are a strangely lonely person for a brilliant millionaire,’ he adds lightly, but Tony doesn’t buy it.

‘Billionaire,’ he just corrects automatically, fixing his eyes on the soup, and starts eating. He’s _fine_ with his two friends and a group of crazy superheroes _somewhere_ in his house. He doesn’t need anyone else.

‘How about we play chess? I dare you to win, mister genius billionaire,’ Bruce says when Tony is finished with the food; yes, _finished_ , Tony congratulates himself for the effort put into not losing any more weight.

‘Sounds good,’ he decides, smiling at Bruce and letting JARVIS instruct the doctor where to find a chess set.

Okay, so Tony doesn’t mind Bruce being here in the room and not somewhere in the tower because Bruce is too nice for his own good and he understands Tony on a level most people don’t. Maybe the three days of obligatory bed rest won’t be so bad in the end.

 

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks to everyone who commented/left kudos/subscribed! I was really happy to know you enjoyed the first chapter. Please let me know what you think about this one :)


	3. 3

When Tony gets cold _again_ , he starts to get seriously annoyed and maybe a tad bit worried because he’s always been perfectly healthy and fine and this is just wrong. He can’t focus on his work and he’s behind, not too much but between SI and S.H.I.E.L.D. he can’t really afford to waste time, unless he decides to cut some of his activities. And he’d never do that.

There is one mission the Avengers go to and then another and Tony fights at his best, feeling miserable and weak inside the suit, but he’s lucky to have JARVIS helping him.

A few days before Thanksgiving Tony is sitting in the common room with a mug of herbal tea and his tables in hands, wrapped tightly with the warmest blanket he could find, when Natasha walks in and stops abruptly as soon as she notices him.

‘Tony? What are you doing here?’

‘Sitting,’ Tony replies, making a _isn’t it obvious_ face and looking at her across the room. ‘Why?’

‘I just don’t think I’ve seen you resting – unless you were forced to – _ever_ before.’

‘I’m _not_ resting, I’m working,’ Tony protests, gesturing at the tablet with holographic designs floating over it. ‘On some very important things. JARVIS, kill the holo. Can’t let the spy girl know all out secrets.’

‘You’re hopeless,’ Natasha states, rolling her eyes, and disappears into the kitchen, but before she’s gone she gives Tony last long look.

Bruce comes over maybe half an hour later, with a cup of his chai, and sits down on the sofa next to Tony.

‘Natasha sent you,’ Tony states accusingly, tilting his head so that it rests on the warm blanket and stares at Bruce. Bruce doesn’t even look away, just shakes his head slightly and takes a sip of his almost-too-hot tea.

‘She said you were miserable.’

‘Did she?’ Tony wonders, mentally admitting to himself that he _is_ feeling miserable. ‘Well. Your presence really raises the morale, Doctor Banner.’

‘Tony, stop the silliness. If you’re sick, you should take some meds and go rest.’

‘I _am_ resting more than I’ve ever wanted, really,’ Tony counters, saving the project he’s been working on and turning the tablet off. ‘I just need – you know, brain hygiene, thinking about nothing, I think we discussed this some time ago when you claimed you’re not going to ever try teaching me yoga –’

‘Because you can’t shut yourself off,’ Bruce interrupts, sounding as if he didn’t mind that particular feature of Tony’s too much. ‘Do I need to force-feed you some aspirin?’

‘No, I’ll get some,’ Tony sighs and gets up, shivering at the sudden cold washing over him as he gets out of the blanket nest. He does get the aspirin, accepts a shake from Dummy and them spends half of the night listening to AC/DC in his soundproof workshop and catching up on some pressing projects.

 

 

Thanksgiving dinner goes just fine but the team doesn’t get to rest because there is an assemble call the next _early_ morning, early enough so that Tony would still call it day since he hasn’t slept yet.

There are creepy robots that seem to be focused on destroying everything around them, according to S.H.I.E.L.D. intel, but when the Avengers arrive at the scene it turns out that it’s them the robots want and they make their best effort at capturing the heroes. Iron Man and Captain America are their main interest – Tony finds it kind of flattering, to be honest, even if _really_ annoying and slightly dangerous – but the best they manage to do is wrap their metal arms all around Steve in attempt to take him away somewhere, but before Cap has a chance to do something, Hawkeye hits them with an EMP arrow that kills them.

Two of them also manage to catch Tony in the suit, wrapping their lasso-like limbs around his wrists and tugging him down, Tony has to admit their strength is pretty impressive, but his suit is _better_. He fires a repulsor beam at them and Hulk finishes the job before half an hour passes.

‘Well, we done here?’ Clint asks, throwing the bow across his back and looking around at the not-so-bad destruction of the town around them. ‘Let’s disappear before S.H.I.E.L.D. comes to do damage control.’

‘We need to debrief with Director Fury anyway, Clint,’ Steve says disapprovingly and walks towards the Quinjet while the rest follows him unhappily.

‘Catch you on Helicarrier,’ Tony says and takes off, enjoying the rush of the momentum before he reaches optimum height. He’s on the ship a few minutes before the rest of the team.

The debrief is useless and bureaucratically boring so Tony tunes his brain to different frequency and kind of dozes off. He hasn’t slept and he’s so tired again and he hates fighting robots.

‘Tony?’ Bruce nudges his side – Tony is out of the suit, there are some minor things he needs to repair before it’ll be comfortable again – with this little frown between his eyes.

‘Didn’t sleep,’ Tony mumbles, but he’s already wide awake. ‘Things to do.’

‘I bet,’ Bruce says and turns his attention back to Fury and Natasha, who is speaking now.

Tony falls asleep alone and with a headache, but hey, he does go to sleep so that’s something. JARVIS doesn’t even have to force him by turning all his electronic devices off.

 

 

The next morning Tony is drinking his coffee alone in the kitchen, it must be five a.m. and it’s winter so the world outside it completely dark. Today it counts as a morning because Tony actually slept the night in his bed, but at four he woke up with this idea he had to write down and he knows he won’t go to sleep again.

Clint marches into the room, wearing sweatpants and armguards and no shoes – that’s Tony’s life since he let the group of insomniac misfits under his roof – and he gets himself a tall glass if cold milk and a handful of cookies from Steve’s baking jar.

The he turns around, survey’s Tony who is sitting by the island, and locks his eyes on Tony’s hands for a second before yawning.

‘Didn’t realize you were into this,’ he says, chuckling knowingly.

‘Into _what_?’

‘Bondage,’ Clint almost sings and then disappears in the dark corridor. Tony opens his mouth to say something, but before he can put his scrambled brain together to form a reply, Clint is long gone.

Tony blinks a few times, wondering what has just happened and why would Clint come up with this particular idea just like that – they do exchange friendly insults, but well. This seemed kind of specific.

Then Tony looks down at his arms and notices the same thing that Clint must have seen: there are dark bruises around his wrists. Tony blinks again and brings his hands closer to his eyes and to the light and stares, wondering how the hell did he get them – ah. The robots. The robots that just dragged him down a little and the suit was just a tiny bit dented and there should be hardly any marks, but instead he has two purple bracelets of different shades and uneven edges on his arms.

Well. It’s not like he will die from little bruising, and it’s probably from the aspirin, a common side effect. He’ll just need to switch to another medicine if – no, there won’t be another time. No more colds.

 

 

When the winter weather with snow and freezing temperatures hits, there is no cold – Tony is thankful – but he develops a slight fever that last for some time, which is annoying.

Tony probably wouldn’t have noticed, claiming that it’s just him adjusting to the weather and being tired with all the pre-Christmas galas – really, who hosts a gala every week? – but one afternoon when he’s teaching Bruce how to synthesize vibranium, Bruce stops listening to him and stares instead.

‘You’re going to be the second person on the globe to know how to do this magic and you _stare_ at me? What is it, Brucey?’

‘You’re flushed,’ Bruce states, pressing his lips in a tight line.

‘So are you,’ Tony points out because they’ve been doing some pretty physical work and they are both worn out and sweaty under the tank shirts they are wearing.

‘No, it’s not – JARVIS, can you take Tony’s temperature?’

‘Right away, Doctor,’ JARVIS replies instantly. ‘Sir’s temperature is 101,1 degrees Fahrenheit.’

‘Don’t tell me you’re gonna be concerned now, Jolly Green, it’s barely above –’

‘You’ve been sick lately a lot. You _sure_ you okay now?’ Bruce asks, ignoring Tony’s rant, and Tony thinks for a fraction of second before replying.

‘Yeah, nothing unusual,’ he says truthfully. ‘Now, can we go to the science now? This can’t exactly wait forever or we’ll have to starts from the beginning. We can, if you want to, but I thought you were the one who actually sleeps –’

‘Just go on,’ Bruce sighs and puts on the protective glasses Tony has just tossed him.

 

 

Tony comes down with a nasty flu exactly in time for Christmas celebration, but this time it’s not only him. The Avengers were all fighting some freaking Godzilla-like monsters and it involved a lot of water all around at some 20 degrees, so the whole human trio gets sniffles and fever. Bruce makes them soup with lots of ginger and then offers them warm milk with honey and cinnamon to make the mood a bit more Christmassy.

Natasha and Clint are fine after a few days and Tony is still all sniffly and sore when they celebrate New Year’s Eve.

‘It’s not fair,’ he whines, staring at the champagne everyone but him is drinking. Despite everything, he is responsible enough not to mix alcohol and medicines. ‘I hate you all.’

‘Of course you do, whiner,’ Clint rolls his eyes and drowns his sparkly drink. ‘Like if not fair and sometimes it sucks. But I guess _that_ must be kinda news for you.’

‘I’ve been kidnapped,’ Tony says and feels Bruce’s hand clasping his shoulder firmly.

‘We have all been kidnapped at some point, to be honest,’ Natasha reminds them from the sofa. ‘But let’s not make this a contest. And you, Tony, if you’re still all sore, why don’t you just go and rest?’

‘And miss the beginning of the New Year? No way. Haven’t done that since I was like… four? Something like that. And I’m not suddenly an invalid,’ he insists.

He still falls asleep soon after the fireworks above New York die down and doesn’t even realize than until he wakes up in his bed when a pair of arms is putting him down. Then the hands take off his suit and shoes and socks and tuck the warm duvet around his lean figure.

‘Sleep now,’ a voice says and Tony smiles because even through the haze of being half-asleep he recognizes his personal Doctor-Avenger. He listens and goes to sleep, pushing the thoughts about what this year will be like until his brain is filled with the pleasant cotton candy sleep.

 

 

Not long later, while working together, Bruce asks Tony _again_ about his sore throat and Tony gets snappish but then apologizes and admits that there is this idea.

‘You’ve got a theory?’ Bruce asks curiously.

‘I guess it’s because of the reactor,’ Tony explains, feeling Bruce’s eyes focus on the light in his chest straight away.

‘How so?’

‘Palladium poisoning. Might compromise immune system –’

‘But you’ve been fine for such a long time –’

‘Must have caught up with me, I assume.’

‘Maybe you are right,’ Bruce agrees, taking off his glasses and rubbing his eyes tiredly. ‘But I want blood tests anyway. It’s almost nothing, unless you suffer from trypanophobia and I know for a fact that you don’t. So.’

‘I’ll do that only because _you_ are asking,’ Tony states, quirking an eyebrow flirtatiously. ‘Right?’

‘Right,’ Bruce sighs, but it’s clear that he’s amused behind his worried face.

‘Tomorrow,’ Tony adds and sits on his desk, legs swinging, and he shows Bruce the schematics for the new particle accelerator he wants to build for nuclear fusion, since he declared that it’s a crime they don’t have one yet. ‘Now let’s science, Brucey.’

‘With pleasure,’ Bruce agrees and sits next to Tony, leaving the simulation he’s been working on to JARVIS, and they work.

 

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I know it's been _ages_ and I am so, so sorry. But this story is not abandoned, I hope that's good news and that you enjoyed this chapter anyway!!


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